Here we go again . . .

Well, here we go again, if 'go' means 'going on hiatus.'

It's been a long time since I've written anything, largely due to lots and lots of other writing that I was (or will be) getting paid for. I wrote, by my count, one hundred thirty three pages during the spring semester, on top of my day job. That enabled me to finish a large and time-consuming project that I was proud to be part of, but glad to be finished with.

Now I find myself once devoted to my textbook. A first draft is due next April, a draft that my publisher says should be around 250,000 words. That is, for those of you who can't envision exactly what that adds up to, about three trashy mystery novels in length.

Here's some good news: I am making progress. Every few weeks, I crank through another chapter or so. My  manuscript, which I am about to use for a summer school course, is bigger than it was when I used it last fall. It is now 415 double-spaced pages. That seems like a lot, and it makes a decent-looking pile on my credenza, where I keep it as a reminder of how much I have done.

Here's some bad news: even though it is an impressive-looking pile of 415 pages, it still only adds up to 130,000 words. That is a bit more than a mystery novel and a half. I have a long way to go.

Here's some good news: I have a plan about where I will spend those remaining 120,000 words. Well, most of them, anyway.

Here's some bad news: Even with a plan, there is a boatload of writing and typing left to do. Cramming that in alongside my day job during the next year is going to be tremendously difficult.

Here's the surreal news: In a year, my first draft will be in. Within two years, the revisions will be done and the book will be on store shelves. This means that my work will be done. This project has occupied so very, very many hours of my days, evenings, and weekends for the past three years. And for every hour of work, I have probably spent ten hours thinking. It has been an all consuming enterprise. And so, in two years, it will be done.

It is just within the past couple of days that this reality has hit home. With that reality has come a very real question and a really big fear: Once this thing is done, what the hell am I supposed to do with myself?

One last bit of good news: the book is decent. I've written schlock before, and know it when I see it. This will not be schlock. I am proud of what I have done. And, out of courtesy to you and respect for my own dignity, I promise not to spend much time tooting my own horn from now on. But thank you for indulging me tonight.

Inspirational Quote

"If you can't annoy somebody, there is little point in writing."
    --Kingsley Amis

Being Humbled

Yes, this is about that pesky textbook again, but there's a broader lesson or two that apply in other contexts that I need to remember.

When the reviews of my sample chapters came back, they were pretty positive. One or two of the reviewers said they would like to see some coverage of macro topics, and at the time, I brushed that off. The book I had envisioned was a book with a thesis, a thesis that glued micro topics together like epoxy. You could teach an entire semester and more with the book I envisioned, so why would I need any macro chapters?

But my editor was pretty firm that omitting macro topics was a deal breaker, and this was frustrating to me. This was my vision! After all, Hemingway didn't have an editor telling him how to refine his vision, did he?

Oh. Yes. He did. An editor that not only checked his mechanics, but whom Hemingway consulted on character development, plot, and whatnot. Key stuff.

Oh. Yeah. And I am not Hemingway.

And so I was reminded that publishing is a partnership. They put a lot of money into this project before the first copy ever hits bookstore shelves, and through that earn some right to have a say in its development. We both want to see this project be as successful as it possibly can be. And it turns out that lots of schools teach a one semester issues course with specified learning goals that include macro topics. Omit macro, and I automatically forego the chance to sell my book to those schools.

All of this, of course, is a year and a half ago.  Before Occupy Wall Street, before the partisan budget battles. And now, I realize that my editor was right: macro issues are not only important because they sell books, but they're important to ordinary people, and they're important to college students. My book will include macro issues, and it will be better for it. Humbling to realize that you were wrong. 

So I've been thinking about this for a few months now. I've even come up with some ways to tie the macro topics to the general theme that unifies my micro topics. And those micro chapters are largely done. So it is time to start the macro, and to be honest, I have not written anything in macro before. I am in uncharted waters here, and a bit worried about it. Nevertheless, tonight, I begin.

A new semester has begun . . .

and I am reminded how much fun it is to see familiar faces, happy faces, ready to learn whatever it is we're going to study in class this semester.

Work itself is not always fun, but having students that I know and like is a great joy.

Okay, you caught me again . . .

It's been awhile since I've posted, and while I do claim that the intervening months have been ridiculously busy (they have!), I do need to get back into the habit of writing periodically.

A new school year has just begun, and now that I am back in school I am motivated again to resume work on other projects as well. First among them: the textbook project. In early Novermber, I was offered a contract based on the work I had submitted and had reviewed a couple of summers ago. I promptly was advised to take the next couple of months off until I could finalize the contract and be assigned to a production editor, advice I was only too happy to take!

So now it's the new year, and despite being mostly done with the text in my own mind, I am now on the hook to double the quantity going into the text (yep, there's a word count in the contract!), which is a bit daunting. I do have several more chapters to write, which I will talk about in a post in the near future. Whatever the case, it is time to get busy once again, and I have set for myself a target of one hundred pages by the end of the term.

Any questions between now and victory? Good. Let's get started.

Oh, Christmas Tree

I'm not anti-government. In fact, I teach an entire course about how the careful application of government to certain problems can make the world a richer place. But I do believe that government needs to establish priorities, and needs to be thoughtful about what it chooses to dip its fingers into.

Case in point: the Christmas tree tax. This 15-cent per tree fee would be collected by the U.S. Department of Agriculture, and would be used to fund a promotional campaign for Christmas trees along the lines of dairy's "Got Milk?" campaign.

Any economist worth his flocking can go on and on about the economic effects of the Christmas tree tax. So here, I offer only a few brief thoughts. The first: It seems ironic to believe that taxing Christmas trees will help sell more Christmas trees.

Second: Seriously? All the troubles we have in this country, and you're spending our hard-earned tax dollars to develop and implement a go-nowhere program like this? Where on Earth is your sense of priority?

Finally: A promotional campaign for Christmas trees? Do they really need help? After all, it's not broccoli we're talking about.

I believe . . .

that dislike for a particular group of people is a poor foundation for public policy.